


Revelation

by Cassplay



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Identity Reveal, Or Is It?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23390194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassplay/pseuds/Cassplay
Summary: Lena came home with a smile on her face. She always did when she’d had a nice day, or when they watched Amelie’s time as Odette in the ballet. Widowmaker hated to ruin it, but she had to.
Relationships: Lena "Tracer" Oxton/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39
Collections: 2020 Oneshots for you-know-what





	Revelation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bzarcher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzarcher/gifts).



> For Bzarcher  
> Widowtracer, fake married but oops, feelings...?

Lena came home with a smile on her face. She always did when she’d had a nice day, or when they watched Amelie’s time as Odette in the ballet. Widowmaker hated to ruin it, but she had to.

“How ya doin’ luv?” Tracer waved cheerily. She dumped her bag at the door.

“What is the point of having a bag rack if you don’t use it, dear?” Widow said, despite herself and the situation.

“Sorry, Am.” Tracer said, picking up the bag and hanging it from the rack.

Widow held a hand out from where she was sitting on the couch, long legs drawn up to her chest. As if drawn by her touch, Tracer took it and sat down next to her.

“We need to talk, Cherie.” Widowmaker said.

“Amelie? Is something wrong?”

“Lena, I’m not Amelie Guillard.” Widowmaker said.

“Well, yeah, we agreed to hyphenate.” Tracer said, trying to keep things light.

“No, I mean, I’m not Amelie.”

“What do you mean? Are you alright?” Lena put a hand to her wife’s forehead, trying to check her temperature.

“I need you to know, that I know how this looks.” Widowmaker said, moving a hand to the medical bracelet on her wrist. She drew back the cover of the small camouflage device and flicked the small switch into the ‘off’ position. Her skin began to chill instantly, an unnatural hue began to leech into it. Tracer jumped back, breaking their handhold.

“You! You’re the Widowmaker!” She said in shock.

“Yes, I am.” Widowmaker said, her heart aching as much as it could at the look on her wife’s face. It further twinged as Tracer’s eyes flicked around the room, looking for an exit.

“There never was an assassin, was there?” Tracer said. “You killed Gerard.”

“Yes, I did.” Widowmaker said, her core body temperature finally cooling to its normal 32.7 centigrade. Lena was trying to keep her talking, keep her distracted while she looked for an escape.

“Talon did manage to get to you.” Tracer said, standing up from the couch, walking backwards.

“They did.”

“So, where’s the knife this time?” Tracer spat. “Or did you decide to bring your ‘Kiss’?”

“In a warehouse thirty kilometres to the east of here.” Widowmaker said, hating the contempt in Lena’s voice. “I’m not going to kill you, Lena.”

“Coulda’ fooled me with the name there.”

“That is how it was, at first.” Widowmaker said. “Get close to a high-ranking field agent when we were both grieving, gather information from them, then take them out when they were no longer useful.”

“So, what changed?” Tracer said. “If that’s what you’re implying.”

“My Doctor did.”

“We captured Moira a few months after Gerard died.” Tracer realised.

“Exactly, the new one was far less stringent with wiping my mind.” Widowmaker said. “Feelings began to build up.”

“You really expect me to believe you?”

“Of course not. Which is why I’m turning myself in to you.” Widowmaker said, retrieving her carefully stashed pair of handcuffs from between some cushions. She snapped them around her wrists and threw Lena the key.

“Am’?” Tracer said in surprise.

“I love you, Lena.” Widowmaker said. “But it’s Widowmaker. You needed to know.”

Widowmaker looked away, she looked down. She looked away from her wife, staring at the key she had just caught. Tracer had a choice to make: What to do with her Odile?


End file.
